


Birth

by Light7



Category: Castlevania: Symphony of the Night
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-02
Updated: 2013-05-26
Packaged: 2017-11-13 08:46:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/501642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Light7/pseuds/Light7
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The birth of a child is a dangerous time for both mother and child. Things grow more complicated when that child is the son of Dracula.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Birth

Disclaimer: Castlevania belongs to Konami not me. I am making £0.00 out of this fic, it is written purely because I have a burning need to create. Although I would like to own Alucard . . . then he’d be mine.  
Rating: PG-13  
Part: one of two  
Setting: Pre-Games  
Authoress note: Alucard’s birth

They had taken him away quickly, Lisa lay on her bed, sweating and surrounded by blood and filth. It was unpleasant, but she was happy. Her child was born and the pain was fading. True there were still some aches and pains but they were small enough to be ignored. She was exhausted, but she would not sleep, not till they brought her baby back to her. She wanted to see, she wanted to know if she had a son or a daughter. She needed to see her baby. But the birth had been so quiet. The child had barely made any sound. It had not donned on Lisa that something might be wrong until she had watched them rush her child away towards the kitchen. It was so quiet and so still. Lisa felt fear build inside her and tried hard to be quiet and listen to the hushed voices out in the kitchen. She could not make out the words but the tone was dark, worried and fearful. Lisa felt tears well up in her eyes. Something was wrong with her baby. 

“Dear God!” the cry was booming in the silence and Lisa almost fell from the bed. Panic filled her anew as the voices grew in volume and the tone became one of hatred. The door from the kitchen opened with a loud bang and the head midwife came storming into the room, she looked furious. 

“I’m not one for killing babies,” she snapped at Lisa, confusing the exhausted woman more so, “but this creature should be destroyed.” 

“What?” Lisa managed her voice feeble even to her own ears. 

“Harlot,” the midwife snapped at her “demoness.” And with that final harsh word she dropped the child in the crib and turned and left. Lisa was confused but to exhausted to be truly worried especially when her baby started to wail. The child was alive, but what had the midwife meant? Lisa swallowed hard, it was true that this was her child with Dracula, but she hadn’t thought much of it, in fact, she hardly thought of the father as a monster anymore. When she looked at him she saw a man, not a creature and it had not truly occurred to her that his differences may be passed on to the baby. 

With a deep breath, Lisa pulled her nerves together. She didn’t care what was different about her baby, it was still her baby and she loved it. But she wanted to see. So with a groan of stiff joints and sore muscles she pulled herself up and leaned over the crib to the currently unhappy child within. It was beautiful, flushed from birth but still extremely pale. It looked like it had been cut from the moon itself. Tiny wisps of white blonde hair littered its tiny head and Lisa cooed picking up her son. The child stopped wailing when his mother touched him and watched her intently as she lifted him. Lisa smiled. She was pleased she could subdue such a wail so easily. Absently she brushed her fingers over her babies face, tracing his tiny nose and puckered lips. She let out a quiet cry of surprise when sharp little teeth bit down on her finger. So her husband had come through in the baby after all. That must be why the midwife was so distressed. Lisa cooed again as her child sucked her bloodied finger the way a normal child would a breast. She looked up after a moment realising that the midwife had left and had taken her apprentice with her, Lisa was now completely alone. Alone when she needed help. The mortal woman sighed and looked out the window. It was afternoon now, so she would not have too long to wait. Until then she decided to sleep with her new son. 

“Your daddy will be so pleased to see you,” she smiled at him “he will give you your name when he arrives.” The babe’s eyes were already closing and the sucking was growing weak. Lisa smiled and closed her own eyes. She would rest until her husband came. The sun would not set quickly enough.

End

Thank you for reading, please review, I’d love to hear what you think of the fic. 

For information on published works and upcoming projects, release dates as well as weekly blogs check out https : // katiemarie21 . wordpress . com 

I wrote a Book. A big one and a couple of little ones. Check them out here https : // katiemarie21 . wordpress . com / shop /

My first Novel, Grey Wings has now been released!

GREY WINGS

Jason is stranded in a dark city, and is in desperate need of help when he has no idea how he will get home.

So, when he collides with Aurelius, an Angel only in the mildest sense of the word – who has committed a crime worthy of great punishment, but has been handed a rare chance at redemption – Jason can see a way home.

However, their journey will be hampered by Fallen Angels, Earth Spirits, and Griffons – and none can say if everyone will make it home.


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dracula names his son.

Birth  
Disclaimer: Castlevania belongs to Konami not me. I am making £0.00 out of this fic, it is written purely because I have a burning need to create. Although I would like to own Alucard . . . then he’d be mine.  
Rating: PG-13  
Part: one of two  
Setting: Pre-Games  
Authoress note: Just a drabble about Adrian’s birth  
Italics = thoughts and flashbacks  
~  
Chapter Two

He had tossed and turned during the day in which he was supposed to sleep easy. Something was keeping him awake, something was making him restless. He fidgeted angered at the sun’s power over him, had the risk of burning been all that was keeping him still he would have fought it and he would have won. But the sun did more than burn vampires, it held them captive, it paralysed them. When the sun breached the horizon his heart would stop its feeble imitation of life and his blood would still in his veins until he was, to the untrained eye, completely dead. But this day had been different when his heart had stopped and his stolen blood stilled in his veins his mind had remained awake and aware. A long forgotten instinct spoke to him commanding that he move when he could no more move than a stone could. 

So he lay awake and trapped, becoming more and more agitated as the day wore on. Something was wrong in the outside world, something had happened and he needed to know what it was and what he could do to fix it. It had been centuries since he had felt this kind of stress, this kind of powerlessness. He fought hard against the stasis but all he managed was feeble twitching and whispered groans.   
The sun's progress across the sky was slow, slower than it had ever felt before. Minutes felt like hours as he stared hard at the silk covering his coffin lid. By midday he was becoming so desperate that he was counting the threads, every thread was a second and every sixty threads a minute. But when he reached six figures he lost count and his frustration grew even greater. By mid-afternoon, he was close to tears with anger and frustration. Had he been able to use his voice he would have screamed until his throat was raw, but all he could do was lie still, lie still and wait. The sun started to set in the late afternoon, a blessing of winter. As it sunk lower and lower he felt his strength come back to him, he was able to blink again, then able to flex his fingers, he dug his claws into the lining of his coffin and smiled when he had strength enough to rip the fragile silk. 

When the sun finally sank below the horizon and night was truly here he rose from his coffin in a manic attack. The soft polished wood splintered under his claws, the silk shredded along with the wood and the scream he let lose would have made grown men faint with fright had any been close enough to hear it. As it was his cry brought his most powerful servants running. Death found him blind with rage tearing his way free of the wreckage of his coffin. 

“My lord!” the spirit said, clearly shocked and dismayed despite having no muscle or skin to show the emotion. “My lord are you ill,” Dracula could not answer him, rage and madness had stolen his voice. The spectre wisely backed away when the vampire king toppled out of the wreckage and scrambled to his feet. His fine clothes torn by the wood and his hair filled with splinters. Not knowing what else to do Death pushed on his power, forcing the room to become like ice, robbing it of life, Dracula was dead, the spell would not harm him but the feel of it should shock him. 

Dracula froze as the icy hands of the death spell gripped him and slowed his heart like the sun had. His lungs tightened and his movements slowed, the rage was still there but the sudden lack of power to fuel it was enough to pull his mind back to the surface. 

“Death,” he said softly, his voice sounding abrasive as if he had indeed spent the day screaming “pull back your spell,”

“My lord,” death pulled his power back and watched Dracula regain his composure. Dracula shook his head and ran his finger through his hair to free it of splinters. “My lord what troubles you?”

“I don’t know,” Dracula hissed, his entire body trembling with the effort of keeping still and outwardly calm. “Something is wrong I think, or something has happened.” 

“I felt nothing,” Death whispered, “the day was calm, the wolf packs in the forest have reported nothing, the mermen in the rivers also have reported nothing.” 

“you doubt me?” Dracula growled, Death’s eye sockets widened for a moment before returning to their normal size as he shook his head.

“No lord, I know vampires can sense things at a great distance, I will send out scouts if there is a danger to us we will find it.” Dracula nodded but did so slowly, he did not now know if the danger was what he had sensed. In his frantic daytime prison, he had become so agitated that anything would have felt like a threat. Taking a deep breath he tried to calm himself, he closed his eyes and worked on ignoring the sounds of the castle around him, he took another deep breath and felt it come easier this time. The din of the castle was easy to blot out, and taking a third breath he sent his senses out beyond the castle walls. Suddenly he could smell the forest, cold and damp in this winter month, he could hear the river, he could feel the great cold mountains on the west side and the warm hum of the village to the south, he could feel Lisa, wondrous Lisa, he could feel her cottage in the woods, warm, welcoming and stinking of blood. 

He had fur and wings before he realised he had changed, he was out the window and riding the wind before he had made the conscious decision to do so. He was racing to her, his wings pummelling the air to push him forward faster. His fear forced him on, made him beat his wings harder than his delicate bat bones could stand. He felt so angry so afraid, had begged her to come to the castle begged her to come where he could keep her safe. He had given her rooms upon rooms in his home, stocked the kitchens with vegetables and meats she would find palatable and still she kept her cottage, still she dwelt there on occasion, to ‘serve the village’. He cursed with what breath he could spare. Her cottage came into view and he frowned, he could smell blood but there was no mob, no sign of an attack. Regardless he raced on, closing his wings above her chimney he let himself drop like a stone, down through the sooty darkness landing with a thump in the hearth. 

He was a man again in a moment, banging his head on the stone fireplace as he tried to extract himself while looking around for men. He snarled and snapped at nothing, twisting quickly to take in the entirety of the two room cottage. 

Lisa was stood at the small basin, hunched and exhausted looking. Her eyebrows raised and her mouth open, forming a perfect O. 

“Love?” she said softly, her voice thin and weak. He stopped snarling and stared at her, she was shaking and looked exhausted beyond anything he had seen before, her eyes were bruised and sunken, her hair a shambles and damp with sweat, but her cheeks were flushed and she was smiling at him now that he had stopped snarling at her. He frowned at her and took a step closer, she stank of her own blood and as he approached he saw she was trying to wash bloody sheets. It was only then that he realised something was missing from her, she was thin, not unhealthy thin but considering she was eight and a half months pregnant she was extremely thin. His heart froze in his chest and the room spun sickeningly. The blood, there was so much blood on the sheets, he felt the bile rise in his throat, his child was lost. 

It was rare for dunpeals to be born, extremely rare, they usually died in the womb within weeks of conception. He had only heard of a handful making it into the world. But Lisa had done so well, she had been so strong. He had ordered his witches and fairies to tend her daily, they had poured positions down her throat and forced her to bed on an almost constant basis. With their help, Lisa had carried his child for eight and a half months. She had done so well that he had actually begun to hope, he had even started thinking of names. 

“Oh my Love,” he said, his voice cracking as despair welled up “you did so well child, I really thought you would make it. I’m so sorry, so very sorry.” Lisa gave him the oddest look. “Did you bury it?” 

“Did I what?” she asked, a sudden look of panic “Oh! was I supposed to bury him?!” Dracula frowned at her as she continued, “no I put him in his crib.” Dracula sniffed and swallowed the lump in his throat. He reached out, put a hand on Lisa’s shoulder and pulled her to him. She let out a little squeak and snuggled into his chest, he could feel her shaking against him, her heart hammering, she felt hot under his hands, hot and clammy. She laughed when he pushed her back a step and put a cool hand on her forehead. 

“Why are you laughing?” he asked, he had never heard of a woman laughing when she had just miscarried a child, especially so close to its birth. He could not imagine what she must have gone through. 

“Your fussing like an old mother,” she laughed and pushed his hand off her head, “and keep your voice down you’ll wake him.”

“What?” he snapped, confusion overwhelming him. 

“The baby,” she said slowly, her trembling became stronger and her legs gave underneath her. He scooped her up before she could hit the ground and carried her through to the bedroom wondering if the miscarriage had affected her sanity. He stopped in the doorway and swallowed hard, his stomach tying itself in knots, Lisa had set up a crib beside the bed. He forced himself to walk into the room but felt himself walk slower, a child’s crib had never looked so threatening. 

Purposely not looking at the crib, he had no desire to see a tiny bloody body, he set Lisa on the bare bed and looked around for clean linens. Lisa pointed to a chest at the foot of the bed and he retrieved soft worn cotton sheets. He covered her and forced a smile, she smiled warmly at him and he felt braver for it. He finally turned to look at the crib, the tiny body was swathed in blankets and looked so small to him, no doubt he could pick it up in one big hand. Another lump formed in his throat and he felt Lisa take his hand, he looked down at her to see the same warm smile on her face. 

“It’s so nice to see you so worked up over him,” she said softly, Dracula opened his mouth to question her but the words wouldn’t come. “He wants to meet his father, he’s been waiting all afternoon.” 

“What are you saying love?” he managed to get the words out, his mouth dry. 

“I was hoping you would come tonight,” Lisa said, her voice was quiet, little more than a whisper “he wants his father, he has been crying for you.” Dracula looked back at the crib and blinked when he saw the blankets move slightly. He blinked several times to clear his eyes and looked to Lisa before letting go of her and turning his focus completely on the crib. Now that he was focusing on the child he could hear something, a soft rhythmic thumping, a heartbeat. His child had a heartbeat, his child was alive. He nudged the crib with his boot a little harder than he meant to, the babe twisted and groaned before opening its lungs and let out a wail worthy of a banshee. 

“Oh you woke him,” Lisa slumped backwards and it really hit him how exhausted she looked, her heart was beating fast and irregular, she had lost blood bringing his child into the world. With a silent voice he called to the tiny fairies in his castle, they were fast his tiny ladies, and they swarmed into the cottage within minutes.

“My lady love is in need of aid,” he ran the backs of his fingers down Lisa’s cheek and smiled when the fairies set about their work. They moved fast, cleaning her and pouring potions down her throat, within minutes she looked better but the fairies continued working, repairing the damage giving birth to a half-vampire had done to her fragile human body. Dracula left them to their work and turned to his wailing child, he pondered for a moment about lifting the boy, worried that he would hurt him. But the wailing grew to be too much and he lifted the tiny form from the crib and held him awkwardly but attentively. 

Almost instantly the wailing stopped and the newborn stared at him with intense eyes. Dracula stared right back, and for a few moments there was silence. His child had stunning grey eyes, the colour of storm clouds, he half expected to see a lightening flash. The boy’s skin was soft and warm, not as warm as a human but warmer than a vampire. The infant looked hard at him and Dracula felt he was being judged. 

“Love,” the word caught the vampire king by surprise and he turned to see his wife looking at him with big, soft brown eyes. She looked better now, the fairies had done their work well, “he wants a name.” 

“A name,” Dracula repeated her words and looked again at the baby who was still watching him intently. 

“Adrian,” He said after a moment. “My son’s name is Adrian.”

End Fic

Thank you for reading, please review, I’d love to hear what you think of the fic. 

For information on published works and upcoming projects, release dates as well as weekly blogs check out https : // katiemarie21 . wordpress . com 

I wrote a Book. A big one and a couple of little ones. Check them out here https : // katiemarie21 . wordpress . com / shop /

My first Novel, Grey Wings has now been released!

GREY WINGS

Jason is stranded in a dark city, and is in desperate need of help when he has no idea how he will get home.

So, when he collides with Aurelius, an Angel only in the mildest sense of the word – who has committed a crime worthy of great punishment, but has been handed a rare chance at redemption – Jason can see a way home.

However, their journey will be hampered by Fallen Angels, Earth Spirits, and Griffons – and none can say if everyone will make it home.


End file.
